


A Little B&E

by dustandroses



Series: Possession [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Adventure, Community: tamingthemuse, First Time, Humor, M/M, Major Lust, POV: Xander, Seduction, The End Is Nigh - Yet Again, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1759411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustandroses/pseuds/dustandroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seems the world is about to end - again.  They send Spike and Xander to L.A. to retrieve an ingredient needed for the spell that will stop the current demon threat from opening the Hellmouth.  Unfortunately, Xander is hanging onto his sanity by a thread, and three days alone with Spike, may be all it takes to drop him over the edge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt Notes:** Inspiration for this fic taken from the Live Journal community Tamingthemuse prompt #411: [**Aurochs**](http://www.petermaas.nl/extinct/speciesinfo/aurochs.htm) ([ **Wiki link**](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aurochs))  
>  **Notes:** This story is fourth in the Possession series. You can find links to the other parts below.  
>  You can read info on what an aurochs is at the links above in the Prompt Notes.  
> For any who might not understand the reference in the title: **B &E** stands for **B** reaking and **E** ntering - as in breaking into a building, and entering - usually with intent to steal something inside.

“But I can’t break into a museum!” Xander heard his voice squeak, but he couldn’t help it. Even the thought made him nervous.

“Of course not, Xander.” 

Giles’ voice was calming, and his hand on Xander’s shoulder kept him from standing, and pacing across the room like he wanted to do. But then if Xander paced, he’d probably run head-first into Spike, who’d been pacing since they sorted out what they needed, and who they’d have to count on to get it. 

“We wouldn’t expect you to do anything illegal,” Giles assured him.

“Yeah. That’s Spike’s job,” Buffy told him. “You’re just the getaway driver.” 

“I’m not letting him drive _my_ car.” Spike disdain was clear; he didn’t trust Xander behind the wheel.

“Like Xander would drive that pile of junk. That car is death on wheels.” 

Spike stopped pacing and stared at Buffy, as if weighing the merits of her words, which Xander thought was weird, until he spoke, stroking his chin with one hand.

“Hmmm… I rather think I like that.” He smiled grimly. “Death on Wheels.” 

Giles rolled his eyes, “Dear God in Heaven.” Standing, he crossed to where he hid his scotch, and pulled the bottle out from behind the heavy books. He poured himself a healthy couple of fingers. “Save us all from overly melodramatic creatures of the night.”

“Oi!” Spike protested, but didn’t bother trying to save his already tattered reputation.

Giles put the bottle back behind the huge book entitled ‘The Annals of Evil, Second Edition,’ by Brother Ezeran the Diligent. Why he continued to keep his scotch there Xander didn’t know. Spike had ferreted out the location as soon as Giles had let him out of the bathtub, and they’d all known about it in less than a week. 

Maybe he thought that by letting Spike know about this hidey-hole, he wouldn’t go hunting for the _good_ scotch, which he kept in his room, in the bottom drawer of his dresser, under his cardigans. He shouldn’t have bothered. Spike had discovered that one the same day; Giles just hadn’t realized it yet.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to break into the Natural History Museum?” Willow’s shaky voice trembled with emotion as she spoke. “I mean, those fossils are a trust – a gift to future generations! If everyone who ever needed scrapings from an Aurouchs horn did what we’re contemplating…”

“Wills – get a grip, okay?” 

Xander squeezed her hand, sharing a quick glance with Tara, hoping she’d get the idea that they needed to calm Willow down. Wills had problems dealing with authority; as in she couldn’t imagine breaking the law, but this time, there really wasn’t an alternative. Tara wrapped her arm around Willow’s shoulders, and murmured into her ear, but Xander couldn’t hear what she said.

Buffy crossed to the couch, and crouched down in front of her, putting her hands on Willow’s knees. “Willow, it’s an emergency! If we don’t stop these Souvenir demons, they’ll blow the Hellmouth wide open, everyone from their dimension will come rushing through, and that will be the end of the Earth.”

“Soovaneeth demons,” she corrected Buffy softly, rolling her eyes, and smiling for the first time all evening. 

Xander got the idea that she knew Buffy had only screwed up the name like that to distract her from their upcoming thievery, but hey, as long as it worked, it was all good for Xander. 

“If we don’t stop them,” Xander reminded her, “there won’t be any future generations around to discover that we cheated them out of several ounces of scrapings off the bottom of some extinct giant bull’s horns.”

“We?” Spike laughed at Xander’s comment. “You’re not doing a damn thing except sitting in the car, Junior. I’ll be the one taking all the risks, here.”

“Yeah, but this is your big chance, Spike.” Buffy’s voice was light, and teasing. She stood up, one hip cocked as she spoke. “You’re always telling us you can break into anything, anytime. Well, here’s your shot. Show us how good you are at a little B&E.”

Spike walked up to Buffy, stopping only inches away from her, smirking at her attitude, as if he knew she was playing with him. “Oh, don’t you worry, Slayer. I’ll get what I’m after. I always do.”

Xander cleared his throat, uncomfortable with how quickly the atmosphere had changed from playful to sensual. He didn’t like how close Spike was to Buffy, and he hated the way Spike licked his lips, and how Buffy’s eyes followed the tip of his tongue. He struggled to come up with a way to disrupt the suddenly charged undercurrent buzzing through the air, but his head was full of cotton, and he couldn’t come up with anything to say that wouldn’t reveal his jealousy at Spike’s flirtation.

“Yes, well, perhaps then we should go over the map that Willow procured for us, so you know exactly where the Aurochs horns are kept.” Giles’ dry voice cut through the thick tension in the room, and Xander sighed with relief as both Buffy and Spike took a step back, and turned their attention to the map on the computer. 

“They’re not on display at the moment; they’re in storage with a number of fossilized bones from the same skeleton….”

Giles’ voice droned on and on, in that same boring schoolteacher voice that Xander had learned to tune out years ago. He hadn’t ever thought he’d find a use for that particular skill outside of the classroom, but then he met Giles, and learned that some skills you never stopped needing.

He had more important things to worry about, anyway. He was going to be stuck in close proximity to Spike for three days. This was so not good – it looked like his bad luck was back. Tara had given him a gem several weeks ago, and since then, the bad luck he’d been having had at least slowed down. He still had more than his share, but it hadn’t been as bad as it was before. He kept the gem in his pocket, and every once in a while he took it out, staring at the glittering colors – green, amber, red, and brown, and rubbed his thumb over the surface, thinking positive thoughts. It seemed to help.

At some point after that night that Spike had helped him home, and Xander had come to the realization that what he’d thought had been a simple minor crush on the Bleached Menace was, in fact, a head-on case of major lust, Xander had lost his nerve. He’d made plans to seduce Spike, but every chance he got to get closer to him, he chickened out. He’d had plenty of chances, too. For some strange reason, Spike was spending time with him. 

After patrol the other night, he and Spike had sat around until close to dawn drinking beer and making fun of late-night reruns and infomercials. He’d been keeping on hand a couple of six packs of that imported ale Spike liked. He hadn’t mentioned it, but he got the idea that Spike appreciated it. They’d played pool at the Bronze a few times, and shared a blooming onion. But with all the time they’d had together, Xander had still not said one word, or made one advance. Not one. 

And Spike – well, Spike was being Spike, and Xander couldn’t stop staring. When Spike licked his fingers clean after he’d devoured the last buffalo wing, Xander had to bite his lip to keep from moaning out loud. It had gotten to the point that he got a hard-on every single time he watched Spike fight. Last week, Spike had gotten too close to the sword of another vamp, and ended up with a four inch slice across his right hip. Spike had casually unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down far enough to bandage the wound, but Xander’s hands had been shaking so badly that he’d been afraid he wouldn’t be able to help.

Now, Giles and Buffy wanted Xander to spend three whole days in L.A. with Spike. _Three days._ God help him, but he was going to explode from repressed lust. When their three days were over, Spike would have to carry him home in a suitcase, because he wasn’t going to have a single bone left. He’d be Xander, the Amazing Boneless Man. Spike would say, “Ya know, mate, I could have sworn you had a backbone at some point or other,” and Xander would just whimper, and melt even further into his puddle of bonelessness. 

Maybe, if Xander was _really_ lucky, the Soovaneeth demons would destroy the world _before_ they left for L.A. tomorrow. He could only hope.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander can't help but dig himself deeper and deeper into his lust for Spike, and Spike isn't helping!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt Notes:** Inspiration for this fic taken from the Live Journal comm Tamingthemuse prompt #411: [Triquetra](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triquetra)  
>  **Notes:** For any who might not understand the reference in the title: B &E stands for Breaking and Entering - as in breaking into a building, and entering - usually with intent to steal something inside.  
> [Simon Templar (aka The Saint)](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simon_Templar) was considered a modern version of Robin Hood - a thief whose thievery always resulted in a bad guy getting robbed, and good people being helped. He always got the girl - a different one every week. In the original TV series, he was played by Roger Moore prior to his stint as James Bond. (Dusty may have had a crush on him when she was only a wee little dustbunny.)

Xander kept his hands in his pockets as he studiously avoided watching Spike get dressed. He glanced to the mirror, hoping to see enough of Spike that he could tell if he had his jeans on yet, but then he realized that vampires had no reflections, so that was a stupid thing to do. Not that his being stupid was something new – he’d known he was stupid the moment he realized he was going to try and seduce Spike three weeks ago, and things hadn’t gotten any better since then.

He finally stopped searching for any sign of Spike in the hotel’s double-dresser mirror, and saw that Spike had at least pulled his jeans up, even if they weren’t buttoned, yet, damn him. His white-blond hair stuck up in tufts from the toweling Spike had apparently given it while Xander’s back had been turned. His pale chest still had droplets of water that glistened as they slipped over his finely-formed abs, and dripped into the waistband of his black jeans. If he looked closely enough, Xander could almost see honey-brown, curly hair in the open fly.

Not that he was looking! No sirree, not Xander. He had to be on his toes tonight, and he couldn’t afford any more spontaneous erections. He rubbed the gem in his left hand and the Celtic knot in his right with his thumbs, reminding himself of their mission, and forcing his mind in a more positive direction. 

The gem was from Tara, a good luck charm that had helped him break the cycle of bad luck that had followed him for weeks now. The Celtic knot in his right hand was new – a gift from Willow to both Spike and Xander that was supposed to protect them, with a bit of extra mojo that was somehow supposed to make them harder to see. Xander had laughed at that. 

“What? You bottled the chemical reaction that makes women take one look at me in a bar, and find somewhere else they urgently need to be?”

Willow had smacked him on the arm. “Doofus. It won’t make you invisible or anything,” she said, handing both Spike and Xander small metal knots on braided leather cords long enough to slip over their heads. “It’s sort of like Teflon for the eyes. Unless you do something major to attract people’s attention, their eyes will just slide right on past, and never notice that you’re there.”

“Sweet! Thanks, Wills.” Xander had examined the silver charm closely. It was composed of three ovals woven together into a triangle, with a circle inside them. 

Willow had told them it was a Celtic knot, and that the circle in the middle represented protection. Then she and Tara had built the ‘see me not’ spell right into the metal.

“Just don’t wear them if you want to order food,” Tara told them. “Wuh-we had to put them in our backpacks before the waitress finally noticed us.”

“So you tested them?” Spike held his up, watching the charm swing, catching the overhead light and scattering flashes around the four of them.

“We did. Tara and I made out in front of the library for fifteen minutes, and no one even looked twice!” Willow blushed bright red, but held her head high, as though proud of her accomplishment. 

“Did you, Red?” Spike seemed impressed at her admittance of a bit of exhibitionism. He smirked at Tara. “Well, I’m not at all surprised at you, missy. It’s always the shy ones.”

Tara smirked back at him, much to Xander’s surprise. 

“Tara!” Xander cried.

She winked at him, and walked away. “Good luck, boys.”

Xander smiled at the memory, tracing the knot with his fingers. He watched Spike slip the cord of his charm over his head, tucking it into the front of his shirt and smoothing his hand down the fabric. Damn. He’d been lost in his memory, and he’d missed Spike buttoning up his jeans, and putting his shirt on. Oh, no, wait. That was good. Very good. Less distraction for the Xan-Man. Because the Xan-Man needed no more distraction tonight. Tonight they were going to case out the museum.

Spike swirled his coat around, settling it on his shoulders as if it were a cape. Striding to the door, he stopped, and cocked one sexy eyebrow at Xander.

“Ready to go, mate?”

“After you, Robin.”

“Robin?” 

Xander grinned, suddenly excited to get this whole plot moving. “Robin Hood, of course.” He followed Spike out of the door, locking it behind them.

Spike snorted. “Right. Who’d that make you, then?”

“Little John. Who else could I be?” 

“More like Friar Tuck.” Spike turned and strode down the hall. “Besides, I’m fonder of Simon Templar, myself.”

It was Xander’s turn to snort. “Sorry, Spike. There is no way I’m calling you _The Saint_.”

“Oi!”

* * *

Xander walked from display to display, casually keeping an eye on the guards stationed at the entranceway to the staff area. He was pretty damn nervous, because Spike was behind those doors, with no backup, in case he had a problem with any humans. Xander should never have agreed to this whole thing. He was no good at staying behind, he worried more than if he was in the midst of the fighting – of which he expected there would be none, he told himself firmly. Dammit. He was too freaked out to deal with this. 

He and Spike had spent half an hour wandering around being ignored by everyone, and they’d come to the conclusion that the charms were doing their jobs. Xander had been quietly freaking out because he and Spike were _flirting_ with each other - joking about whether Spike was more like Robin Hood, who was in love with Maid Marian, or like Simon Templar, with a different girl in every port. 

Xander hadn’t been happy with either alternative, since they were talking about Robin Hood and Maid Marian, and not Robin Hood and _Little John_. But at least that was better than Simon Templar, who had a dozen girls a week, ‘cause he had more chance of stealing Spike away from one girl than he did of attracting his attention when he had twenty or thirty girls to fight through.

“You don’t like Maid Marian?” Spike asked, leaning up against the glass front of a display of ancient Latin American art. He ducked his head and looked up though his eyelashes at Xander, whose stomach clenched when Spike tilted his head, and asked with a glint of humor, “What’s wrong with Maid Marian, then?”

Well, as Giles would say, _in for a penny, in for a pound_. He was fairly sure that the saying meant more if you were British than it did for an American, but he got the idea. If he was going to flirt, he might as well go all the way. 

Xander braced himself, walking up to the same display, leaning on the glass, and leaving only a foot of space between himself and Spike. His stomach was full of butterflies, but dammit, he was going to do this. If Spike totally freaked out and ran away, at least he’d know how he felt. 

“Marian? Nah, she didn’t do much for me,” he said dismissively. He stared straight into Spike’s blue eyes, and smirked at Spike’s curious glance. “I was far more interested in what Robin and Little John got up to on those cold, rainy English nights.” 

Both of Spike’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “Were you, now?” Spike leaned closer, until they were only separated by a few inches. 

Xander’s excitable butterflies turned suddenly into a ravening horde of killer butterflies bent on beating their way out of Xander’s stomach with their steel-tipped wings. He held his breath, waiting for Spike’s move. 

“I really hate to do this,” Spike murmured, “but I’m going to have to take a rain-check on this conversation.”

Xander pulled back, confused. “What?”

“I expect I won’t be long, but I need to take advantage of the opportunity, and see if I can get behind those doors.”

Xander looked behind him, where the guards were talking animatedly, and ignoring the door they were supposed to be guarding. Spike flipped the edge of his duster back, showing a stolen employee pass key. When the hell had he gotten that? 

“If I’m not back by the time the museum closes, meet me at the car.” He shoved the rental car keys at Xander, and walked away. Then he turned back, and pointed at Xander. “We will be finishing this conversation, so don’t forget where we were.” Then he winked, and turned away, walking up to the guard station.

He slipped behind the two guards as they talked about something obviously engrossing, and casually swiped his stolen card. As soon as the doors slid open, Spike ducked inside and was gone. 

Xander sighed. “Damn. I’m never going to have the balls to do that again.” 

Now it was closing time, the last announcement had been made, and although no one had come up to him and asked him to leave, he had a feeling that he should go. If Spike was expecting him to be by the car, he might take a back exit, and be waiting for Xander by the car. Or he might need a fast getaway, and Xander would be inside with the car keys. 

He walked as quietly as he could behind the last couple leaving by the front door, and headed down the front steps. He turned around at the bottom of the stairs, watching as the security guards locked up, and punched the buttons that Willow had told them were the front end alarm system. Damn Spike. Tonight was supposed to be surveillance night: get in, get a feel for the place, check out the exits Willow had marked on the map. No one was supposed to get stranded inside _or_ outside. 

Xander supposed he’d better wait by the car. He could open the doors and start the engine, so he could be ready in case Spike came out a back entrance in a hurry. He turned to the parking lot. And the evening had started out with such potential. 

A hand clamped down over his mouth, and before he could even try to bite it, an arm wrapped around his waist. He was picked up and twirled around two or three times, the museum and the street swirling by him at a rapid pace, the car lights blurring as they sped by. Set down suddenly, the hand disappeared from his mouth, and there was Spike in front of him, laughing manically. 

“Where the hell have you been, you asshole!” It probably wasn’t the best thing he could have yelled, but he was a bit rattled, and that was all he could think of.

Spike just laughed louder, and wrapped his arm around Xander’s shoulders. That was a good thing, since Xander was still a little dizzy from his trip on the whirling dervish by the name of Spike. 

“C’mon, mate. I’m a bit peckish. Fancy some pizza, or maybe some burgers and fries? My treat!” Spike’s eyes glinted in the streetlights, and his smile was contagious.

“Your treat? Right. How many people did you pick the pockets of tonight?”

“All right. You got me.” He pulled a fat wallet out of his pocket. “Charles Rangle’s treat.” Before Xander had done more than open his mouth, Spike was talking again. “He’s the bloke was yelling at his kid. The one that was crying in the dinosaur display, remember him? What an arswipe. Not his kid’s fault he was scared of the mean looking dino.”

“Oh.” That guy had really pissed Xander off. He had a feeling that if they’d been home, the kid would have been hit for his behavior, and in Xander’s book, that was never okay. “All right, we can eat on his dime. Just this once.”

“That’s more like it, mate.” Spike wrapped his arm around Xander’s shoulders again as they walked to the car. “I have a feeling we’re going to have a fine meal tonight. What do you say about steak?”

Xander rolled his eyes. Well, if he was going to be one of Robin Hood’s Merry Men, he supposed he needed to get used to this kind of thing. The guy definitely deserved it, and besides, as long as Spike kept putting his arm around Xander, he’d agree to most anything. Jeeze. He was so easy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander finally gets his suave going for him, and he discovers a few things about Spike he'd never imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt Notes:** Inspiration for this fic taken from tamingthemuse prompt #414: Capsize  
>  **Notes:** If you're interested in more info on the [Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County](http://www.nhm.org/site/), you can find it at the link. Info on the dinosaur exhibit is here: [Dinosaur Hall](http://www.nhm.org/site/explore-exhibits/permanent-exhibits/dinosaur-hall). There you can find Thomas, the T. rex, on which was based the frightening dino skeleton that the ten year old child was afraid of.  
> [Simon Templar (aka The Saint)](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simon_Templar) was considered a modern version of Robin Hood - a thief whose thievery always resulted in a bad guy getting robbed, and good people being helped. He always got the girl - a different one every week. In the original black and white TV series, he was played by Roger Moore prior to his stint as James Bond. (Dusty may have had a crush on him when she was only a wee little dustbunny.)

Xander’s muscles complained, his bones creaking as he stretched. With his arms extended over his head, his feet hung off the end of the mattress, and he rolled his eyes sarcastically. Okay, so the bed wasn’t as large as the one he had at home, and the motel they were staying in was certainly not the best they could have chosen. But they’d been more interested in keeping a low profile than they were comfort. Whatever. It didn’t matter. He didn’t think anything could spoil his good mood today, not even the shitty motel room. He’d had a wonderful night.

Spike had wanted to take Xander to the best restaurant in town, but using someone else’s credit card in an upscale restaurant was not what either of them considered keeping a low profile, so they’d ended up in a small stake house with a line out the door. True, they’d had to wait for a table, but Spike had been right: the longer the line, the better the food. Besides, the wait had given them more time to flirt – and boy howdy, had they ever flirted.

They sat at the bar, waiting for their number to be called, sipping their beer. “So,” Spike said, casually, “I seem to remember we were discussing something important when I had to leave in such a rush.” He tilted his head to the side, and asked, “Exactly where were we when I so rudely interrupted us?”

Xander grinned slyly, and leaned in close. “If my memory serves me right,” he murmured, his lips grazing Spike’s ear, “we were right about _here_.”

Spike shuddered, and Xander hid his triumphant grin. He’d made Spike shudder! 

“Oh, you’re wicked, aren’t you?” 

Spike’s breath fluttered across Xander’s cheek, and he fought his own shudder as the air blew his hair, tickling his neck. Xander had those butterflies in his stomach again, and Spike’s lips slid across his cheek as he pulled back enough to stare into Xander’s eyes. 

Xander was transfixed, frozen by Spike’s startlingly blue eyes. He struggled with his mind, trying to come up with something intelligent to say, but his brain had gone on strike, and he was left with nothing in his head at all. It was Spike’s eyes. Those blue, blue eyes had stolen his words from him, and he was totally brainless. But what else was new?

“You have the most amazing eyes.”

Xander cringed, shaking his head. “Sorry. Sorry. Was that the most horribly clichéd thing I could possibly have said, or what? It’s true though. They’re so blue.”

He couldn’t imagine why Spike hadn’t laughed in his face, yet. He must be stunned by Xander’s absolute lack of suavity. Spike’s eyes were locked on his lap, and Xander sighed. He’d totally blown his chance to impress Spike. He’d blurted out the most corny, old line he could ever have thought of, and now Spike was trying hard to not laugh at him. Dear god, but he sucked at this.

“The problem is I was never good in English, so I can’t just come up with something sophisticated and smooth, like Simon Templar would do. That’s why I’m not fighting off the women - or men, for that matter - ‘cause I can’t do all refined and polished and James Bond. I mean, I know you know how blue your eyes are – like the ice shards you see on glaciers on the Discovery Channel. So perfectly blue.”

Now he was babbling, and he really just needed to shut the hell up and take his lumps like a big boy, ‘cause any second now Spike was going to start laughing at him and Xander was going to disintegrate, drifting to the floor in tiny little pieces of shame.

“Yeah?” For a second, Spike’s smile was soft, and maybe even a little shy, but with a snap, his expression turned to blasé. “I mean, _yeah_. Of course I know, right?” 

Then Spike grinned at him – a real grin. He wasn’t smirking, and he didn’t look like he was ready to laugh in Xander’s face, either. “But there’s nothing wrong with saying it, Xander. When you’ve got no reflection, sometimes you forget about shite like that. Besides, even if you are the best looking vamp in three states, everyone likes a compliment now and then.”

Xander knew his eyes were about as wide as they could get, but if he hadn’t known better, he’d say that Spike was blushing. And babbling. _Spike was babbling._ He hadn’t thought Spike had it in him. 

He started to tease Spike about his babbling, and he opened his mouth to say so, but just as he started to speak, he saw the hesitant look in Spike’s eyes, and realized that if he made fun of Spike right now, it might make Spike pull back, and hide his feelings in the future, and he liked it when Spike let Xander in like that. It didn’t happen that often and there was no way he wanted to damage that part of their growing relationship. 

But Spike had noticed that he was about to say something, and if he didn’t say something, he was going to make Spike suspicious. Damn. Now he had to come up with something to say, and his mind was a total blank! He felt like a ship capsizing, tilting slowly, and there was nothing he could do to stop it…

“Harris, party of two!” the restaurant’s hostess called.

Spike looked away, motioning to the hostess, to let her know they’d heard her call, and Xander sighed heavily. Saved by the bell. For once, he’d been cut off, and hadn’t managed to spoil the mood. Spike grabbed their beers, and the two of them headed for their table. Xander wondered if he could hire that hostess to stand by while they ate, and keep track of his idiocy. He had a feeling it was the only way he’d make it through the night. Fortunately, by the time they were seated, and talked over the menu, and sorted out what they wanted, Xander was feeling back on an even keel again. 

He’d never had a porterhouse steak before. It was definitely the best steak he’d ever eaten in his life. They toasted Charles Rangle and his VISA Platinum card more than once over the course of the evening. Xander felt the guilt creeping up on him a few times, but he’d comforted himself by thinking of the way Rangle had cursed his ten year old son, jerking him around, and calling him a crybaby just because the dinosaur skeletons had frightened him. What a jerk. If someone had to pay for their dinner, there was no one who deserved it more. 

After all, they were saving the whole world from the Souvenir demons, right? If he was going to play Little John to Spike’s Robin Hood, he was going to have to get used to this ‘rob from the rich to buy dinner for the poor heroes’ mentality. 

“Soovaneeth demons,” Spike reminded him. 

Oops. “Did I say that out loud?” 

Spike’s slow smile was contagious. “You might have.”

“Damn. I need to watch that.”

Spike shrugged one shoulder, his eyes sparkling. “I don’t mind. You make me laugh. It’s not that often I feel like laughing these days, so I take advantage of it every chance I get.”

“Yeah, but I can’t be the suave hero if I’m making people laugh all the time,” Xander complained. 

Spike pointed his steak knife at Xander. “The only person you need to make laugh is me,” he said solemnly. “Besides, I’m supposed to be the suave antihero. You’re the sidekick, remember?”

“Some sidekick,” Xander grumbled. “I don’t get to do anything but sit in the getaway car.” 

Spike grabbed his hand, holding on tight when Xander tried to pull it back. “It’s important that I know you’re safe, Xander.” 

Xander looked up startled – he liked it when Spike called him Xander - he didn't do it that often. It made him suspect that Spike meant what he was saying, and that was a surprise. 

Wait a minute. Xander was supposed to be seducing Spike, not the other way around! What was going on here?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander learns first-hand how that 'taking from the rich and giving to the poor thing' works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt Notes:** Inspiration for this fic taken from the Live Journal community Tamingthemuse prompt #415: Potpourri  
>  **Notes:** This story is fourth in the Possession series.

The rest of the evening had gone a lot better than Xander had any right to expect. Spike was right; Xander could make him laugh, and Xander beamed with pleasure every time he got one of those pure peals of laughter. It was difficult, but he kept the most sophomoric of his jokes for another time, like when they were knee deep in beer bottles and swamped by bad horror movies with names like “Samson vs. the Vampire Women,” and, “The Killer Shrews.”

Spike wouldn’t let Xander know what they were getting for desert. Xander was a little disappointed, ‘cause he was really in the mood for some chocolate, but Spike told him not to worry. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing, because not just any chocolate is good enough to top a meal like this one,” he warned Spike.

“Don’t worry, Little John, you’re gonna like this one, I promise.”

When the cake arrived, Xander was impressed with the name, and the presentation. The Molten Lava Cake had warm chocolate on top and running down all the sloped sides, softening the vanilla ice cream on the side. The moist, spongy cake was still warm, and Xander dug in with delight. When he found the molten chocolate surprise in the middle, he cheered. 

“Oh, wow!” He licked the fork clean, moaning as he got another hit of delicious, melted chocolate. He’d never had anything this good in his life.

He glanced up at one point, to realize that Spike was staring at him intently, his mouth slightly open. He put his fork down reluctantly, to wipe his mouth with his napkin.

“What? Do I have chocolate all over my face?”

Spike shook himself, blinking as he finally focused. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Oh no. You’re just fine. I’m pleased you’re enjoying it so much is all.”

A woman’s voice broke the moment. “I want whatever it is that’s making that man moan.” Xander glanced over to see a woman pointing at him as she handed her desert menu to her waiter. The man with her was scowling at Xander, and Spike chuckled.

“What’s that about?”

“You should have heard yourself, mate. You were bleeding impressive. If you sound half that good in bed…” 

A hot flush swept over his face when he realized what Spike was talking about. He must have sounded like a real horndog. “I can’t help it,” he defended himself. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

“Good,” Spike said with a smirk. “Finish your desert, then, Little John. I’ll sit here and admire.”

Xander eyed his plate. Spike’s Molten Lava Cake was untouched. “What? You’re not going to eat that?”

Spike pulled his plate to him, protectively. “Keep your bloody hands off,” he growled. 

“You’d better start eating, then,” Xander warned him. 

He tucked into his own cake. Warm chocolate had run out and made a moat around the scoop of vanilla ice cream. He switched off his fork for a spoon, and concentrated on eating every last drop. He controlled his chocolate orgasm sounds with difficulty, but it was worth the effort, when he heard the first moan come out of Spike’s mouth, sounding more like sex than desert. 

Oh. _That_ was why Spike was shifting in his chair, earlier. He adjusted himself discreetly. Now he understood. 

When they were both finished, leaning back in their chairs, legs sprawled out before them, satisfied grins on both their faces, Xander raised his glass for one last salute. 

“To our dear friend, old Charlie!”

Spike raised his own. “Hear, hear!”

They fell into a peaceful quiet. Not an awkward silence – more the relaxed atmosphere of two content men. The day had been long, with many ups and downs, and it was easy to tell they were both exhausted. 

Xander had never been that good at flowery compliments, but his dad had pounded manners into him from as young as he could remember. So when they were leaving, and Spike stopped ahead of him to let a waiter with a full tray pass, Xander stopped short to avoid running into Spike’s back. He put his hand in the small of Spike’s back, and kept it there as they made their way out. He may act like he had no clue when it came to politeness, but he knew to open the door for a date. Spike glanced up at him in surprise, but he accepted the gesture gracefully. 

Not even Cordelia had ever found cause to criticize Xander’s manners. Unless he was intentionally hamming it up, which he was pretty good at, ‘cause he loved making his girls squeal with disgust – it made him a happy camper. That was the boy in him. Sometimes you just had to let him out. Fortunately, Spike was a guy, so he understood. As a matter of fact, Spike was the one who started the belching contest they held in the car on the way home. But no matter who started it, the clear winner had been Xander. Spike had conceded the fight when Xander belched the entire Star Spangled Banner – in under a minute.

They were still laughing at that when Xander let them into the room, pausing to let Spike go in ahead of him. 

Spike frowned, stomping over to the other side of the room. “I’m not some bloody chit, you know.”

Xander looked up at him in surprise. “I didn’t think you were, Spike. Remember, I’ve roomed with you. Trust me, I am well aware that you are _not_ a woman.”

Spike sat on the edge of his bed, a confused look on his face. “Oh.” He paused for a moment. “Then why are you opening bloody doors for me, and all that shite?”

He had two options here. He could lie and put this conversation off for another day, or he could face this like a man. If it was him being wooed, he’d want honesty. He guessed Spike deserved the same.

“I like you, Spike. I like you a lot. I’m very attracted to you, and I’d like it if we became more than friends.” Spike’s scowl didn’t look promising, but Xander kept going. 

“Most of the people I’ve been involved with have pretty much jumped me, and ordered, ‘In the closet. Now,’ or ‘Sex. Now.’ I’ve always felt like there was something missing. I wanted more. I wanted a chance to let the relationship develop naturally.”

Spike’s frown was still there, but Xander got the idea that he was taking Xander’s words seriously. He kept going.

“The way I’ve treated you tonight is how I’d treat anyone I’d like to have a relationship with. It was a relaxed evening that I enjoyed a great deal. I wanted to touch you, and it felt like the right thing to do. Now that’s not the way I’d act if we were at the Magic Box, or in the Bronze playing a game of pool, but it felt like the right way to treat you tonight.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry if I got it wrong. You’ll have to tell me if I’ve screwed it up, because I thought you were enjoying the night as much as I was.”

“Yeah, all right. I had a good bit of fun tonight. I guess I’m just used to being the one making the advances.” He arched one eyebrow challengingly. “Not that there were a bunch of bloody advances going on.”

“I’m kind of liking the slow build-up, aren’t you?” he asked worriedly. He really wanted this to work for both of them.

“I dunno. Seems like I’m the one always doing the courting, and I tend to move fast, if you know what I mean.” He wiggled his eyebrows comically, and Xander laughed.

“Yeah, I bet you do.” He sat down opposite Spike, on his own bed. “Give me a chance, Spike. Can we do it my way for now?”

It was Spike’s turn to shrug. “Yeah, I guess we can. But if I get too frustrated, I reserve the right to grab you and just snog you silly.”

Xander couldn’t fight the grin. “I can live with that. Remember, I’m a guy, too. I’m only going to last so long.”

Spike humphed, and stalked off to the bathroom. “I get first dibs on the shower.” 

Xander protested. “Hey, you got first dibbs last night!”

He crossed his arms, telling Xander crossly. “If I’m going to play the chit, then you should let me go first.” He disappeared into the bathroom.

“Damn,” Xander grouched. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” He could have sworn he heard Spike chuckle evilly from the bathroom. Oh, so that’s how it was going to be, was it? If that’s the way Spike wanted it, two could play that game.

He waited until the shower was running before he sneaked out and headed to the motel’s office. Xander was pretty sure he’d seen what he wanted when they’d checked in. Five minutes later, he was back with a flowery smelling, heart shaped sachet, a small box of chocolates, and three silk roses. He arranged them on Spike’s pillow with a grin. If Spike wanted to be treated like a ‘bloody chit,’ well then, Xander would treat him that way.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes as planned at the museum. Now all Xander needs to do is get through the rest of the night without panicking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt Notes:** Inspiration for this fic taken from tamingthemuse prompt #417: Fireworks  
>  **Notes:** If you're interested in more info on the [Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County](http://www.nhm.org/site/), you can find it at the link.  
>  This story is fourth in the Possession series.  
> Due to illness, this part is only half the length I intended. So it looks like this story will be six parts long, instead of five.

Xander found himself impulsively marking off the list of steps Spike and Giles had decided they needed to prepare themselves for tonight’s … he hesitated to use the word _theft_ , even though he knew in all reality, that’s what they were doing. Okay, _Spike_ was doing the ‘heist’ as he called it, and _Xander_ was just sitting in the car. Yes, it was stealing, but it was only a handful of shavings off the bottom of an ancient bull’s horn. They were taking their scrapings from the back of the horns – where they joined to the skull, and the chances that the museum would ever show that side to its patrons was pretty close to nil, so it wasn’t doing much, if any, actual harm. 

Still, no matter what word they used, it was _theft_ , but since they planned to save the entire world using that bit of horn, he thought they could be, “excused for their presumption,” as Giles had put it. In other words, ya do what ya gotta do, right? That didn’t stop Xander from freaking out about the fact that as soon as the sun set, Spike had slipped out of the car, and made his way into the Natural History Museum with a sacred knife, a Ziploc baggie for the shavings, and his favorite set of lock picks.

He was uncomfortable with the fact that Spike was going in while the museum was still open, even though the timing worked in Xander’s favor for the events he had planned for later in the evening. The worst part was that there were kids _everywhere_. He thought it was cool that the museum had special afterhours events for children, including overnight adventures. But it would have been nice if they’d had them some other weekend. 

But they didn’t, so Spike decided to go in before the museum was closed for the day. It was a Saturday, so there shouldn’t be too many employees around behind the scenes, but Spike had discovered that they didn’t set the alarms in the workshops and storage rooms until after they closed for the day and gave the kiddies free rein. Spike liked the timing, and since he was the one doing the hard work, Xander agreed. He didn’t have to like it, though. 

Just sitting in the car was driving him crazy, so despite the fact that he’d done it a dozen times already, he decided to go through the things on his list, to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. He’d switched out the car’s license plates, and put a few decorative touches up for camouflage – a “Baby On Board” sticker, and a few stuffed animals in the back window. Tara’s suggestion – if they were going to be hanging around a museum on a Saturday, it just made sense. Then he’d reserved a room in a new cheap motel, asked for suggestions for something special to do on a Saturday night, and hit pay dirt. Then he loaded up the trunk with a couple of coolers and various supplies, spread out the tarp in the back seat, and went back to the motel to wake up the vamp. He was pretty sure he hadn’t missed anything. He hoped so, anyway.

When the door opened suddenly, Xander had to look closely before he noticed Spike sitting in the passenger side. Those charms were potent. 

“Hey! How’d it go?” He checked his watch. “You made good time!”

“Of course I did.” He patted one of the pockets in his duster, a pleased smirk showing on his lips. “What’re you looking so surprised at?” Spike asked, his indignation just for show. “Let’s get the hell out of here. I’ve seen more of this bloody museum than I ever wanted to.”

Xander quickly started up the engine. “Are we in a hurry for a reason?” He glanced around as casually as possible while feeling as guilty as he did.

Spike snorted. Obviously Xander’s casual attitude wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Nah. Nobody saw a thing.” He slouched low in his seat. “I’m just tired of all the rug rats. I thought seriously about kicking a few of ‘em, just to get ‘em outta my way, but if you lot found out, you’d put me back in the Watcher’s tub or summat, so I decided to be a good doobie - for today.”

Xander pulled out of his parking space. “I’m glad to hear that, Spike. Because if you’d kicked the kids, I wouldn’t feel comfortable rewarding you for your efforts, and since I spent all this time and effort fixing up a special treat for you, that would be a real disappointment for us both.”

“You got me a prezzie?” Spike sat up eagerly.

Xander chuckled. “I did, indeed. I hope you like it; I worked on it all day.”

“Yeah? I figured something was up. You were gone a long time. You got something special planned, don’t you?” 

“Something, yeah.” Xander smirked at the curiosity on Spike’s face. 

Spike leaned up close to Xander, and murmured in his ear. “You gonna make sparks fly, mate?” he asked sexily. “Is that it?”

Xander couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, it’ll be bigger than that, Spike. I’m going to make you see fireworks.”

Spike joined into the laughter. “Is that so? Think you’re that good, do you?” 

Xander knew a challenge when he heard one. He glanced down at his watch. Spike had given him plenty of time to play with. They should make it with time to spare. “You’ll see, but not until later.”

Spike seemed to accept that, and began describing his heist, and if Xander hadn’t been seatbelted in, he’d have been rolling on the floor as Spike exaggerated his adventures to make Xander laugh. At least he hoped they were exaggerations. If not, there were going to be some very annoyed parents complaining to the Museum of Natural Science.

There was horde of butterflies beating up his stomach again tonight, but at least this time, he didn’t have to worry about Spike getting trapped in a room with a human that wasn’t Xander. This time, all Xander had to worry about was impressing Spike with his choice of presents. Oh yeah, right. This should be a breeze, Xander thought sarcastically. He was never going to survive this night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Xander's plans are about to be revealed. All he has to do is pray that Spike doesn't think he's an idiot for making them in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt Notes:** Inspiration for this fic taken from the Live Journal community Tamingthemuse prompt #418: Arsenal  
>  **Notes:** The film Xander mentions is [Ladyhawke](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ladyhawke).  
>  The rest of the notes are at the bottom of the chapter, so as to not spoil Xander's surprise.

It took Xander and Spike longer to get to Hollywood Hills than he’d expected. Giles and Willow hadn’t reminded him that the Museum was so close to the Coliseum, and it hadn’t even occurred to Xander that there might be a game. But once they got out of that tangle, the traffic was decent. Keeping Spike from figuring out what he had in mind was a lot easier than he expected, ‘cause there was no way he’d expect something like this from Xander. 

In the last month he’d studied a fair amount about what someone from the Victorian age might like, but then, Spike was an enigma. Buffy said that Angel had liked classical music, and books that required a translator on hand, even if they were supposedly in English. Spike, on the other hand had a much wider variety of interests, and his fascination with the Sex Pistols, and other 70’s punk bands had totally surprised them all. Xander had tried to find something punk going on in Hollywood, but with only a few hours time, he hadn’t really had much chance of coming up with something appropriate. So he was going with the Hollywood Bowl, and praying that the guy at the motel knew what he was talking about. 

He’d memorized the map Rich had given him, and so far, they were on time, but it was getting late, and he had no idea if their luck would hold once they got into the right area. When they’d first gotten the charms, Xander had suggested that the witches do their “see me not” spell on the car, so they’d be able to escape without being seen if they got into trouble. Tara had reminded him that if people didn’t notice the car, they’d crash right into them without realizing what was happening, so that was the end of that brilliant idea. He’d had to take off his own charm once they started moving, because the drivers in the other cars kept staring at the car, and they’d caused several accidents before they’d realized that no one could see Xander driving, so it looked like the car was moving on its own. 

Spike had begged him to keep wearing it, but when Xander refused, Spike took to climbing out his window at stoplights, and playing tricks on the other cars. It had started when he’d jumped out to change the license plates, and get rid of the backseat camouflage. Spike had knocked another car’s side mirror with his hip, and totally flipped the driver out. Since then, every time they stopped, he’d jump out the window and move their headlights so that they stuck right up in the air, or turn on their windshield wipers, if their window was open. One time he pulled a guy’s cigarette out of his hand, took a puff, and put it back again. If that hadn’t been enough, Spike’s voice coming out of nowhere to say, “Thanks, mate,” had totally freaked the guy out.

Xander had to admit, that was fun, and nobody got hurt, much anyway, but he had to put a stop to it when they got closer to their destination. Spike had pouted, which had made Xander laugh. He’d promised him that later, on their way to the motel, Spike could have all the fun he wanted, but that for now they didn’t want to attract any more attention. 

Rich’s map had been accurate, and Xander was pleased that his hefty tip had been worth every cent. There were a number of people sitting on the hilltop when they got there, but Xander didn’t want a front row seat. He wanted to be able to have some privacy. Spike got out of the car and examined the area. The city lights were beautiful, but off to the side from where everyone was gathering, and even in the dark, he could see Spike’s curious frown. He set the blanket up against the side of the car – the front end was too hot after their trip. Spike carried both the coolers around, but Xander took them both and set them to the side with the basket. 

Spike’s frown was getting more and more tortured looking all the time. “You’re driving me crazy with all this, Little John, what the hell have you got planned?” 

Xander dropped a handful of big, fluffy floor pillows on the blanket, and closed the trunk. That horde of butterflies was back, and not only did they have steel-tipped wings, but this time, they’d brought out their razor-tipped claws. He sure hoped that Spike enjoyed his present – he was taking a big chance. He’d look like a fool if this didn’t work.

“Have a seat, Robin Hood.” He gestured to the other people, the majority of whom were crowded around the peak of their hill, sitting close to the edge. “Looks like the party is ready to start.”

“Shouldn’t we be up closer, then, like all the rest?” 

Xander shook his head, and plopped down onto a pillow, getting himself comfortable. “Nah. I think we’re in exactly the right spot.”

Spike shrugged, and folded himself up neatly onto the pillow next to Xander. “If you say so, mate. This is your show.”

“Yeah, but it’s your present.” He swallowed heavily. “I hope you like this, Spike. It was a last minute idea, and it isn’t what I’d hoped for, but I worked hard on it, and even if you don’t like everything, I hope you can get some enjoyment out of the evening…”

He’d been working up to a full-fledged babble, but Spike put a hand over his mouth, and he caught the hint. 

In the haze of the dim city lights that edged around the top of the car, Xander could see Spike’s smile. It was that real, honest one, the one he seldom saw, and hope bloomed in his stomach. At least now that horde of ravening butterflies had a place to settle. 

“Even if it’s not something I’d normally like, I’ll like it, simply because you went to all this trouble, Xander.” His hand slipped to the side, and caressed Xander’s cheek.

The butterflies may have put away their steel, but they insisted on fluttering around in his stomach, anyway. Xander wondered if he and Spike might just share their first kiss, hours before Xander’d planned, but then the group chattering up front got louder, and more excited, and Spike looked away, his hand dropping into his lap.

“What’s that they’re saying?” he asked. “Tchaikovsky?” Damned vampire hearing.

That was when the music started. It was low, and somber, and hard to hear at first, but it grew louder as it went. Spike grinned widely. 

“Marche Bloody Slave!”

“Is that good?” Xander knew that was the name of the first piece, although Spike had pronounced “Slave” differently than Xander would have. Maybe it wasn’t about a slave after all. It didn’t sound like Spike was making fun of it, but it was hard to tell. 

“Yeah, Little John, that’s good.” He cleared his throat, adjusting the collar of his coat, and shrugged, acting as casual as possible. “I mean, yeah. That’s not so bad. So we’re here for a concert, huh? Show me what you’ve got in that cooler, then. I thought I smelled chocolate earlier.” 

“Oh, yeah!” 

Now that Spike had admitted he wasn’t too disappointed in the venue, Xander realized he was starving. He’d been too nervous to eat earlier, but now that the butterflies had calmed down, he realized he had tons of room for a picnic. He started pulling out potato salad, fried chicken, sandwiches, chips, coleslaw, dill pickles, and even some deviled eggs. He’d gone all out at the deli. And for desert: double fudge chocolate cake. Not as good as Molten Lava Cake, but he thought it would do. He had something else planned for the finale, anyway.

They dug in, but Spike kept an ear out for the music, stopping from time to time to listen to parts that he obviously liked. Xander thought the music was okay. That March Slave piece was not at all what he’d expected – all sweet and pretty one minute, and the next booming and powerful. Rich said that the concert’s ending was spectacular, and that was what he’d brought Spike here for, but he was glad they’d made good time. If they’d skipped the first part, he’d never have seen that first huge smile. That smile had made Xander’s insides melt. It made him grin, just thinking about it.

They’d played for a while by the time Spike and Xander were through eating, and another one played in the background as they leaned back against the car, and talked. 

“This is a ballet,” Xander said, not particularly impressed. 

“Part of it, yes. Not the whole thing, I’m pretty sure.”

“A ballet about _swans_.”

Spike laughed happily, which made Xander grin. Spike had laughed more this weekend than he had the whole time Xander had known him – both as an evil bloodsucking fiend, and as a slightly-reformed-due-to-circumstances evil bloodsucking fiend with a chip in his head.

“But see, it’s not just about swans,” Spike explained. “Odette is bespelled by the villain Rothbart. She’s a girl at night, but a swan by day.”

“Oh, sorta like that _Ladyhawke_ movie, where he’s a wolf during the night, when she’s human, and she’s a hawk during the day, when _he’s_ human, ‘cause they’ve been cursed by this evil sorcerer so that they’ll never be human at the same time. Right?”

“Yes. That’s very similar. They probably got the idea from Tchaikovsky – or whoever Tchaikovsky got it from.” 

“Oh yeah?” Xander poked Spike’s leg with his finger. “How do you know it wasn’t the other way around?”

Spike grabbed his finger, but when Xander pulled back, he didn’t let it go. Instead, Spike linked their fingers together and set them on his thigh, and what do you know, they were holding hands. Sweet.

“Because Tchaikovsky wrote his ballet in the late eighteen hundreds, way before there were talkies.”

“Okay. You got me on that one.” Xander changed the direction of their conversation, hoping to hear a little about Spike’s past. “So you watched ballets when you were a kid?”

“Not Tchaikovsky’s, although he was alive at the same time as me – well, part of it, anyway.” 

“But you watched them,” he said confidently. “Ballet’s, I mean.” 

Spike looked a little uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was headed, and Xander realized he was worried. “Don’t worry, Robin, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thanks, mate. No need to give the Slayer any more ammunition.”

Xander held up his free hand, and swore on it. “No one will hear from me that William the Bloody watched ballet, and opera, and all that stuff.”

Spike snorted. “Not like the Watcher’s don’t know it already. We caused plenty of havoc in more than one opera box in our time. What else was there to do? Live performances were the only form of entertainment at the time. No TV, no film, no arcade games, no wireless...”

Spike laughed aloud at the look Xander knew was plastered on his face. He couldn’t help but be horrified by the thought of no TV. 

“How did you survive?” he asked shakily.

“If you were lucky, you played a musical instrument, or sang. You played parlor games or solitaire, read, went for walks, boated, and as often as possible, you went out for live entertainment, no matter what form it took.”

“Wow.” Xander knew life had existed before television, but at the moment, he was having trouble wrapping his brain around the idea.

Spike settled a little closer. “Is this really what you had in mind for tonight, Xander?” he practically purred. “It’s an almost clear night; I could have sworn I saw some stars twinkling through the smog, earlier. There’s been good food, good company, romantic music playing…there’s not a ballet shoe in sight, and you want to talk about _swans_?”

It was Xander’s turn to laugh. “Good point. What the hell am I thinking of?” He lifted his beer, “Here’s to good company, and romantic music.” They clicked bottles, sipped, and then Xander took both beers, settling them in the melting ice of the cooler. He slipped his hand around Spike’s neck, sliding his thumb over a sharp cheekbone, and pulled Spike to him. 

Their first kiss was amazing. Spike’s lips were slightly cooler than Xander’s, but they were soft, and they opened willingly when he ran his tongue along Spike’s bottom lip. The butterflies were back, but they only wanted to tickle Xander’s stomach this time, and he had no problem with that. If his lips weren’t busy, he’d be grinning, because finally, after all this time, his luck had changed. Nothing had gone wrong the whole time they’d been here in LA, and tonight? Tonight was perfect.

Time lost all meaning as they kissed, lips sliding together, slick tongues exploring, the occasional teeth clacking together. That was okay, though, it made the kisses more real, and less like a dream. At one point, they’d parted long enough to slide down the side of the car, and make themselves more comfortable in the pillows, but that was about his only point of reference for time. He knew that the music had changed again, and that meant that the big finale was on its way – the last surprise in Xander’s arsenal. But until then, he had more important things to do. 

He was so lost in their kisses that it took him by surprise when Spike broke away and whispered softly. 

“Xander.”

He blinked rapidly, trying to focus. “What?”

“Not that I’m not enjoying the atmosphere and all, but how about we move this back to the motel? You said it was close, yeah?”

“Well, yeah, but I’m not through, yet.” He stared at Spike’s shadowed face. It was too dark to tell what he was thinking. “Am I boring you?”

“Bloody hell, no! But I heard someone say that this was the last piece, and I was thinking we could get out before the crowds. We’d get to the motel sooner, and we could have a lot more fun that way, since I have a strong feeling you’re not going to let me get too far in public.”

Xander laughed, trying to hide his relief. “Oh, no you don’t! We’re taking this at _my_ pace, remember? First kiss does not equal home run, buddy!”

“What?” Spike looked as horrified as Xander had earlier. “You don’t mean…”

“Not tonight, buddy. Okay, so we made it to second base, but that’s it!”

“Damn!” Spike fell back against the pillows. “I’m going to have to take _things_ into my own hands tonight, aren’t I? After all of this buildup?”

“Sorry, Spike, but we can’t leave early, anyway. The evening’s not over, yet. I’ve still got one more trick up my sleeve.”

Spike looked over curiously. “Is that so?”

“But until then, we can at least get started on the last round.” He pulled the second cooler over, and pulled out a bottle of chilled champagne. Using his hard earned bartending skills, he opened the bottle without spraying champagne all over the blanket.

“Oh,” Spike smirked at him, “all posh and shite, are we?”

Xander grinned as he reached into the basket for the glasses he’d hidden there. “Well, I figured the 1812 Overture had enough of a bang without us popping our corks.”

Spike moaned melodramatically at that joke, but he didn’t complain when Xander handed him a glass, and they toasted. “To a lovely evening.”

The champagne was fizzy and dry, and just the way Xander liked it, but they drank it too fast, so they could get back to the kissing. When the cannons went off for the first time, they both jumped, then joined into the cheering, as everyone around them celebrated the moment. Rich had been right, the 1812 Overture was like a rollercoaster ride, up and down, and over the top.

When the music slowed down again, they went back to kissing, and kept it up, right through the next cannon salvos, which were louder and more numerous. He got so caught up in Spike’s kisses, that the first round of fireworks took him totally by surprise, and it was only when Spike broke away to look up that he remembered what they’d been waiting for all night.

The crowd around them had all surged to their feet, cheering, and Spike grabbed Xander’s hand, and pulled him up. Wrapping his arms around Xander’s waist, Spike twirled him around, laughing loudly. Suddenly they were kissing again, and Xander had no idea how that had happened, since he was about a foot off the ground. They’d managed somehow, and despite the fact that neither of them could stop smiling, their kiss was passionate and rich. 

When Xander finally had to break away for a breath, Spike set him down, laughing. They watched as the last volleys burst into a spray of white sparks across the sky above them. 

“You told me I’d see fireworks, now didn’t you, Xander?” Spike pulled him close. “You lit up the sky, just for me.” He crushed his lips to Xander’s in a quick, hard kiss. “I can’t wait to see what you do to top this one,” he said with a smirk. 

Xander’s face fell. “Oh, damn.” How the hell was he going to top _fireworks_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **End Notes:** I played around with the park in this chapter, making it face the direction I wanted, totally ignoring the fact that cars are not allowed there, and pretending that the park is open after dark. But if you're curious, [Runyon Canyon Park](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Runyon_Canyon_Park) is the one I based it on.  
>  In the month of August of each year, the [Hollywood Bowl](http://www.hollywoodbowl.com/) hosts the LA Philharmonic Orchestra for the [Tchaikovsky Spectacular](http://www.hollywoodbowl.com/tickets/tchaikovsky-spectacular-fireworks/2014-08-16) described in this chapter.  
>  **For those who are curious and have lots of time on their hands:** [Tchaikovsky](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pyotr_Ilyich_Tchaikovsky), [Marche Slave (or Slavonic March)](http://youtu.be/5poSw7tFLB4), [Swan Lake Suite](http://youtu.be/SDhq70yrtiI), [1812 Overture](http://youtu.be/VbxgYlcNxE8).  
>  **OR FOR THOSE IN A HURRY:** [the finale of the Hollywood Bowl's Tchaikovsky Spectacular](http://youtu.be/zWiCp78wUNo) from Sept. 2010. (Four minutes long.)


End file.
